


Kimmy Comes Out!

by izzybeth



Category: Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
Genre: Awkwardness, Bechdel Test Pass, Gen, Humor, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzybeth/pseuds/izzybeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm a mole woman, and before you ask what that is— seriously, does no one watch the news?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kimmy Comes Out!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandyk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/gifts).



> Writing this was a trip. Thank you, sandyk, for requesting this! I had such fun recanoning all the canon (multiple times) for the voices and discovering I accidentally knew all the words to Daddy's Boy (whoops). My one regret is that I wasn't able to reference "Troll the respawn, Jeremy." Thanks to C and L for beta duty. Happy Yuletide!

"Titus, I've made a decision."

"You're gonna go on Ellen? You're gonna do the morning show circuit? Oh em gee, oh em gee!" Titus hops up and down and shakes his hands in glee. "Gonna be famous! Gonna be on tee-vee!"

"Titus—"

"It's about time you cashed in on this mole wom— excuse me, _goobadoobs_ business."

_"Titus—!"_

"And of course you'll be taking your best friend and roommate along with you, because you'll need someone to brighten up that pasty skin and teach you how to handle fame."

Kimmy jumps around and waves her hands frantically in front of Titus's oblivious face.

"Sure, there'll be a BAFTA afterparty or two where you'll vomit in Benedict Cumberbatch's hair—"

"How did you make the mental leap from Ellen to the BAFTAs?"

"—but later he'll find it charming and he'll agree to star in the goobadoobs Lifetime Original Feature, and—" Kimmy sticks two fingers in her mouth and blows a shrill whistle."God, _what,_ Kimpolite?"

_"I don't want to be famous, Titus!"_

Titus purses his lips and crosses his arms in annoyance. "This is because you are somehow deficient and unamerican."

Kimmy takes a deep breath. "I'm going to come out."

Titus coughs, like he swallowed some spit wrong. Kimmy hopes he's okay. "Excuse me? I— Kimmy, you— I don't think that means what you think it means."

"Ugh, Titus, I am capable of metaphor, you know." Kimmy huffs and rolls her eyes. "I'm not gay!" Duh, obvs. "Would've figured that out in the bunker," she adds under her breath.

"Then what the hell are you co-opting the gay man's language for?"

"Okay, there are gay women too, and queer nonbinary— don't distract me! Because I feel like I lied, and I need to come clean!"

"About what? You just said you're not gay!"

"That I'm a mole woman!"

"Sure, _you_ can say it." Titus raises an eyebrow at Kimmy. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know."

"Well, the trial happened, and I realized I hadn't actually put it all behind me as much as I thought I had, so I thought maybe it would help if I just told everyone, and then it'd all be out in the open and I could _really_ let it go—Titus, stop it! You don't need to start singing that every time anyone mentions that phrase. Jeez."

"You know how I identify with Elsa."

"Yes, you're both beautiful, icy, and make poor life choices. What do you think of my idea?"

Titus sighs heavily. "Kimpeccable, you know I'll support whatever you wanna do about being a goobadoob."

"That is such a dumb word."

"Hey, you said I couldn't say—"

"I know! It's still a dumb word." Kimmy pulls her jacket on. "I have a list of people: Dong, Vera, Mr. Lefkovitz, Mimi Kanasis... I'm starting right now! If you want to support me, then come with me."

"Where are we going?"

Kimmy throws one of Titus's old man cardigans at him. "I'm gonna do the worstest one firstest: Logan Beakman."

"That jackass? Why bother? We just finished pawning your birthday presents; I thought we were finally done with him."

"Because. Now come on."

Kimmy drags Titus up the stairs and past the stoop where Lillian sits, lecturing a fifth of Absolut on anarchist theory.

"Where are we _going,_ girl?"

"There's a fancypants party at the Beakman Institute For Art That Actually Looks Like Something tonight. Logan Jerkface will probably be there."

"That's all the way in Midtown," Titus whines. "Can't we take the train?"

"Ooh, I'm Titus Andromedon! I can't walk forty-seven blocks in late October because my footsies are just so delicky-welicky! Honestly, do I look like I'm made of train fare?"

"It's like a _hundred_ and forty-seven and—" Kimmy makes pathetic eyes and poochy lips. "Fine! Just stop, you're hurting my feet's fee-fees."

Kimmy sees a terrifying sight at block number eighty-something, and she points a disbelieving finger into the air. "Titus! That sign said, 'Coming Soon: Entourage 2'. I thought there wasn't going to be an Entourage 2!"

Titus cringes, but then just shrugs. "Well, who better than the studios to tell the public what the public wants. Marvel's got that ish locked down."

"You're right, Titus. Who would ever actually go see a Black Widow movie?" Kimmy laughs, safe and secure in the loving, corporate arms of Disney and its subsidiaries.

At block eleventy-whatever, Titus slumps against the stained bricks of a bodega. "I can't go on, Kimmy. I'm a human disaster. My feet have never experienced such punishment. You go without me."

"We're over halfway there, Titus! You can do it! I believe in you! And your feet!"

"No, I can't. I'm just going to find a bench somewhere and you can fashion some sort of sledge from abandoned pallets and pick me up in the morning. It's fine."

"Titus, you said you'd support me." This time, the pathetic eyes are real.

"And I do, Kimmy. I do. Just, through kind of a lot of pain and not in person. Can I have five dollars? I need water and ibuprofen."

After reassuring Titus that he wasn't at death's door, Kimmy finds herself at the Beakman Institute For Art That Actually Looks Like Something. Everyone at the party looks so sparkly and fancy, and even though Kimmy is wearing her special tee shirt that had been fired out of a cannon at the mall, she feels slightly underdressed. But she _has_ to get in somehow. Clearly this is a job for her Kimberly Tiara Von Lobster Voice. She marches up to the door.

"Goood eeeveninggg, my name is Kimbehly Tiaahra Von Lohhbster, and I seeem to have forgohten my invitehhhtion—"

"Miss Smith!" It's Hank, Logan Jerkface's adorable driver, apparently taking a smoke break. "It's so good to see you! You're not back together with the young master, are you? You can do so much better than that little snot."

"Oh, no no, nothing like that," Kimmy laughs. "I just needed to see him for a minute."

"Well," Hank says, "I probably shouldn't do this, but what the hey. Go on in."

"Aw, thanks, Hank!" Kimmy high-fives him. "You're the best!"

"Don't you go getting into any inadvisable romantic entanglements, ya hear?"

"Oh, Hank, by the way— I'm a mole woman!"

Kimmy throws the confused man a huge grin and a double thumbs-up, and goes inside. The ballroom is quite dim, but luckily she wore her light-up Skechers (they have the best arch support of all of Kimmy's shoes), and she quickly finds Logan Jerkface.

"Hey, daddy's boy!" She shouts, and then frowns. "Nope, still doesn't sound like a thing."

"Kimmy?" Logan's in a tux, surrounded by lots of classy looking people. "What are you doing here?" All the classy people turn to stare at her. They're all holding drinks, probably made of essence of diamond and Javan rhino horn, and Kimmy wilts.

"I'm, uh…" What is Kimmy doing here? This had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

No! Kimmy made a decision, and she's going to follow through on it! "I'm here to tell you something."

"Well, do be quick about it, thanks, because as you can see, I'm rather busy with people who never actually dumped me for an illegal immigrant," he says, smirking. What a dillweed.

"Okay, actually I'm here to tell you two things. One: I'm a mole woman. Two: you're an inconsiderate, selfish, privileged, tiny-horse-riding, dolphin-murdering, boyfriend-deporting buttface."

"You're a what? Did you say a mole woman?"

"Did you just not hear the rest of it?"

"Not really; I just let any sort of personal criticism slide off me like water off an otter caught in an oil spill. What in God's name is a mole woman?"

Kimmy sighs heavily. "I was held in an underground bunker against my will in Indiana for fifteen years with three other women by a crazy reverend," she recites in a single breath.

"Oh," says Logan. "And you never thought to tell me this while we were dating?"

"It never seemed to come up," Kimmy says.

"I see."

The silence is awkward enough that even Kimmy wants to squirm. "Welp." Logan Jerkface waves a hand and goes back to his sparkly people.

Well, forget him, then. Kimmy trudges out the door, waves to Hank, and starts the long walk back up to Harlem. While passing through an outdoor sculpture exhibit, she happens upon a homeless guy slap-fighting with a gay black man over a park bench ("Gimme the bench! You can sleep under a Rodin! Only French bums can say that!"), and she drags Titus home with her. Who spends ninety-odd of the hundred-and-mumble blocks telling her I Told You So.

—

"Good morning, Vera," Kimmy says as Vera restocks the magic refrigerator.

"Buenos días, Kimmy," says Vera.

"Um… so I should probably tell you something," Kimmy says, digging at the floor with the toe of her Chucks.

"Okay?"

"I'm a wole muman. Mole woman! God!" Kimmy blushes bright pink and peeks at Vera from between her fingers.

"Sí, ya lo sabía. Yo te reconocí de inmediato. Miro the Today Show todos los días," says Vera, going back to restocking the diet water.

"Oh," says Kimmy. "Okay then." She goes to stick her head in the non-magic refrigerator to cool it off.

Xan wanders into the kitchen, texting and laughing to herself. She looks up to see Kimmy (face less red), jumps a little, and sits down at the counter, still glued to her phone. Kimmy shrugs. Teenagers, man.

"Soooo…" Xanthippe is intent on her phone's screen, but Kimmy has become fluent in Xanthippic lately and knows she has a question.

"Yes, Xan?"

"So… like... the reading nook was actually a bunker?"

"What?" No! This is not how Kimmy wanted to tell Xan! Okay, Kimmy didn't actually want to tell Xan at all, but whatever. Deny. Feign ignorance. "Bunker, what is _that,_ I can't even read words—"

"Baby-Sitters' Club Mystery #12 colon Dawn And The Surfer Ghost."

Well, cranberry sauce. "Oh right. Um…"

"You were, like, a mole woman?" Xan shakes her hair into her face so Kimmy can't really tell, but she thinks Xan is blushing.

How did she even know? "We don't really like that term—"

"You lived in a _bunker_. Under _ground_. With other _people_. And I've seen your apartment."

"Shut up about my apartment, Xan. At least I don't live with my stepmother who's actually my _ex_ -stepmother." Kimmy makes an L with her left hand and lifts it to her forehead.

"God, you can't even do that right!" Xan snorts a laugh and thumbs a series of emoji into her phone.

_Boop!_ says Xan's phone a split second later, and the grey bubble reads "IKR?" Kimmy sidles away uncomfortably. She does _not_ want to take Xan and her cool friends indoor kart racing.

She starts putting away the groceries: palm hearts, kumquats, lemongrass, a loaf of pumpernickel, bok choy, kippers, and six different kinds of mustard. "Okay, yes, I spent fifteen years in a bunker with a crazy guy and three other women. It was weird. But now it's over."

Xan is quiet for a minute. "'kay." She considers Kimmy for a moment. "So what do you like to be called?"

"Huh?"

"Like, atmospherically disadvantaged or something?" Kimmy looks at her blankly. "Dude, I'm on tumblr, I get the self-identification stuff, I'm into social justice."

Kimmy nods. "I know almost all of those words."

Xan delivers a clanging eyeroll. "Oh my god."

—

"Lefkovitz!" Kimmy smirks as he jerks out of a snooze and the tie over his eyes falls to the asbestos tiles. "I see you made it into the rubber room."

"Yeah. It's basically bliss." Lefkovitz clips his tie back onto his collar. "What do you want?"

"I'm a mole woman."

"I don't know what that means—"

"I was held in an underground—"

"—and I don't care. Go away."

Kimmy huffs loudly, Lefkovitz mocks her, and so she high-fives a portrait of Sojourner Truth on her way out to lift her spirits a little.

—

_Meanwhile, in South Dakota..._

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Underground?"

"Yep."

"For fifteen years?"

"Yep."

"With three women and a wacko fundie?"

"White people, am I right?" Jacqueline says.

Fern and Virgil nod.

—

"So… how's Sonja?"

"Her birds frighten me. They watch me at night."

"Doesn't she cover them?"

"She says it is unnatural."

" _Sonja's_ unnatural."

"I agree. But she wears her invisibility hat a lot, so..." Sonja's birds chirp obnoxiously in the silence. "This is awkward. What can I do for you so you will possibly leave?"

Kimmy's face falls. This is not going according to plan. Dong is the most important person on her list; why can't things go right just once? "I need to tell you something that I probably should have told you while we were dating." Dong nods. "I'm a mole woman, and before you ask what that is— seriously, does no one watch the news?— I was held in an underground bunker for fifteen years against my will with three other women by a crazy reverend."

Dong thinks for a moment. "Oh, yes, I remember! The viral video on Youtube! Autotune! 'They alive, dammit! It's a miracle!'" He throws his arms wide like the guy in the video. "Very popular for a short time! That was you?"

"Yeah," Kimmy sighs. "That was us."

"I can see why you wanted to tell me. Though I do not understand why you did not tell me while we were dating."

"Because I wanted to put it behind me and forget about it and make my own life! I didn't want it to hang over me forever, like the creepy spiderwebs in the bunker that collected dust and other spiders, up on the ceiling where we couldn't reach, and Gretchen always refused to try even though she's the tallest, and— never mind! The point is, I guess I was sort of in denial about it, but I wanted to tell you even though we aren't dating anymore because you're still important to me, and if we could be friends that would be cool." Kimmy bites her lips between her teeth and looks anywhere but at Dong.

"I don't know, Kimmy," Dong says, looking uncomfortable. "That sounds nice, but I still have feelings for you. But I cannot divorce Sonja because then they will deport me. I don't know if being friends is a good idea."

"Okay, I understand," Kimmy says. "But maybe… maybe I could order delivery sometimes?"

"Kimmy! The Chinese place closed because they deported everyone! Sometimes you are really insensitive!"

—

_Not quite a bug not quite a man_  
_How do I get out of this Spider-Man clan?_  
_I wanna swing from my web I don't wanna fall_  
_Don't freak out when you see me and smash me on the walllllllll!_

Titus wakes up like an ambulance collision. "Kimmyyyyyy!"

Kimmy barrels into Titus's bedroom and leaps onto his bed. "What is it, Titus? Are you okay?"

"I dreamed I was Spider-Man Number Twelve in _Spider-Man Too: 2 Many Spider-Men_." He shudders delicately. "God, my balls."

"But you auditioned for it! I thought you wanted that part."

Titus's shoulders slump. "Not really. I was just so happy that a talent agency actually wanted me."

"Oh yeah, I know how that feels," Kimmy says. "In the bunker, I was always picked last for teams in Trivial Pursuit: Spooky Church of the Scary-Pocalypse Edition."

"Uh, you sure that wasn't something that your creeptastic reverend made himself, Kimprisoned?"

Kimmy thinks for a moment. "Oh. I guess it did seem a little DIY, now that I think about it." She chews on the inside of her cheek. "Like, the little cards were handwritten on newspaper, and the categories were stuff like 'hellfire red' and 'sulfurous yellow' and 'women are _gar_ bage green'..."

" _An_ yway," says Titus, feeling that he is not experiencing enough of the attention anymore, "it was _traumatic_. There were all these Spider-Men everywhere—"

" _2 Many_ Spider-Men?" Kimmy asked, lifting an eyebrow and feeling clever.

Titus glared at her. "Shut it, this is about me. I wanted to crush all the Spider-Men until I was the only Spider-Man. And you know me, Kimmy, I'm a gentle soul!"

"Remember how you screamed though, when you found that spider in the shower last Tuesday," Kimmy reminds him. "You smashed it flat with your conditioner bottle and made me scrape up the corpse." Kimmy frowns. "Why do you even have hair products—"

"They smell nice, leave me alone." Titus cuddles into his My Little Pony themed comforter.

"Come on, you might as well get up, you're not going to sleep again after that," Kimmy says as she pulls at the comforter, yanking right on Pinkie Pie's ears.

"But it's so early!" Titus whines. "It's barely light out!"

"Titus, it's 7:06 p.m.," Kimmy says. "Lillian's already on the couch, yelling at a guy named Tab on Wheel of Fortune."

"Tab, you idiot," comes a shriek from the living room. "Who buys a 'Y'?"


End file.
